


Drink Fanatic

by swan_songs



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, it's hot and they are sweaty that's all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 15:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15464307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swan_songs/pseuds/swan_songs
Summary: Trophy description - buy every kind of drink from vending machines.





	Drink Fanatic

**Author's Note:**

> I went on a trip and sun fried my brain and this is the result, please enjoy this silly oneshot.
> 
> Beta'ed by wonderful [Ammehsuor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ammehsuor/pseuds/ammehsuor), please take a look at theis works as well!

“Akira, get me something to drink.”

 

The whirr of the fan sitting on Akira’s desk almost drowns out the request, but not enough to pretend he hadn’t heard it. The heatwave this year started earlier than usual and reached unbearable temperatures in record time’ thus, the two teenagers were seeking solace in LeBlanc’s attic.

 

Actually, it was more like the heat made it impossible to do anything- even sleeping, much less together in the same bed, forcing the two boys to untangle and suffer in the stuffy room at about an arm’s length from one another since late morning. And with the sun being already mercilessly high up in the sky by that time, they decided against going out. They haven’t made a single move out of the bed since they woke up, aside from Akechi’s long and loud complaining being enough for Akira to go turn up the fan’s setting to the maximum, just to shut him up and be able to doze in peace again(he gets a peck on the cheek for that a bit later, when Goro thought he's actually asleep, so all's forgiven).

 

“Not even a ‘please’? Where are your manners, honey?” Akira groans out from the sprawled out position he adapted after dramatically dropping on the bed.

 

“Shut up, _please,_ and get me something to drink.”

 

Akira clicks his tongue and is about to argue further, nowhere near willing to be outside of the fan’s reach, but once he turns his head to Goro and sees the other boy curled up at the foot of the bed with his back against the wall, to have the slightly cooler air sweep over his whole body, words die in Akira’s throat. Goro was always more susceptible to the heat, something that wasn’t so obvious from his usual summer attire, but seeing him now in just his boxers and a white shirt that definitely didn’t belong to him, still sweating his ass off, Akira develops a thirst of his own.

 

He takes a second too long staring at the strip of toned stomach revealed by the slightly bunched up shirt though, and both disturbed by the lack of reply and movement from Akira, Goro peeks out from behind his phone- a single red eye glaring daggers, but the second it notices what preoccupied his boyfriend so thoroughly, the arc of his bow rises enough to touch the tips of his sweaty fringe, only to drop like a swooping hawk with complete change in his demeanor.

 

Akechi was long past blushing under Akira’s appreciative- or perhaps _hungry_ \- stare, now preferring to answer with tempting hooded eyes and a well-timed stretch, just like now. And despite the majority of his upper body being hidden beneath the loose shirt, Akira knows exactly how the muscles underneath it shift and what shapes they take.

 

His attention is pulled to Goro’s leg, slowly sliding to its full length, just a couple of inches in front of Akira’s face. Its fluid movement rivals a swan crossing a still lake with how the ripples in the sheets appear in its wake. In his reverent trance, Akira doesn’t notice the slight shift in Goro’s hips, doesn’t notice how his other foot inches closer to his chest, how Goro’s mouth goes from being teasingly parted with just a hint of a tongue peeking from in between his lips to a vicious grin in the span of half a second.

 

With a single, powerful kick, Akira is shoved off the bed in a heap of limbs. A winded ‘Goro, what the f-’ is all he manages before he hits the ground.

 

“It’s rude to make your guest wait.” A thunk of something decidedly similar to a headbanging against the floor reaches Goro’s ears, making him snort.

 

“Wow, just wow.”

 

“I love you too, now _move._ ”

 

Goro’s tone makes it obvious there will be _consequences_ is his demands aren’t met. And since Akira likes sharing the bed with his boyfriend and not being banned from certain activities involving him, he reluctantly gets up from the floor. The show he puts on is no worse than the one Goro gave just minutes before, making sure to properly stretch with his back turned to the other boy which earns him a sudden spank on his boxer-clad ass. He doesn’t jump or yelp (he does) to deny Akechi the satisfaction of startling him again.

 

Turning back to face Goro with the most offended expression he can muster, he looks at his very-pleased-with-himself boyfriend, now lying on his stomach on the spot previously occupied by Akira. His knees are bent, feet dangling in the air as well to evoke the most innocent look he can, the smug bastard. How did Akira get so lucky with such a gorgeous creature for his boyfriend? Each day he’s grateful for enduring the blood and tears they had to shed to get here, because it was _so_ worth it in the end.

 

A groan is the last thing Akira hears before the creaking of the stairs drowns out everything else. Guess Goro appreciated the sway of the hips Akira adopted on his way down.

 

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, Akira stops and puts hands on his hips with a sigh, since he has no pockets to hide them in. He wants to say it’s the first time he’s been in the cafe barefoot in just his boxers but it would pretty much be the lie of the century, something more Goro’s thing, and he wants to leave it at that. A bit belatedly, he sweeps LeBlanc with his eyes to make sure it’s empty and Boss hasn’t suddenly decided to open the cafe on a Sunday, when he said it would be closed on those days in the summer (his excuse was to spend a full day with Futaba but Akira knew himself and Goro being healthy young adults was the real reason. The one time he saw just how healthy they are was enough).

 

Out of habit, Akira’s hand reaches up to fiddle with his fringe.

 

He thinks of brewing some coffee to butcher it with ice and cold milk, but Goro would have to get a bit more creative with his hands to get Akira to boil water in this weather. Still, he makes sure everything behind the counter is in perfect order before moving to the kitchen area, cold tiles a blessing to his rough wood-abused feet.

 

The fridge takes a bit more force to open thanks to the sweltering heat permeating the cafe, and the cold breeze hitting Akira once he pries it open reminds him that _LeBlanc_ _has air conditioning,_ which is swiftly turned on in hopes of some of the colder air making its unlikely way upstairs in the near future.

 

Returning to the fridge, he fishes out a couple of soda cans that he tries to cradle against his chest before their pleasant chill turns bitingly cold against his skin in a fraction of a second, prompting him to stumble towards the counter yet again to put the cans there. Once Akira’s satisfied with the selection of drinks (picking mostly his own favorites but none of Goro’s), checking if the cafe’s doors are properly closed and standing under the AC’s stream for a few seconds to prepare himself for the trek upstairs, he’s off.

 

With a stack of cans perfectly balanced in each of his hands he approaches the bed and wrinkles his nose at the sight.

 

Goro not only made himself comfortable on Akira’s side of the bed, but also stole his pillow. Akira wants to think it’s because it smells like him, but in reality it was probably a lot less sweaty than Goro’s, who is now lying stretched out on his stomach with his legs where his head is supposed to be. He makes no effort to acknowledge his boyfriend’s return; annoyed, Akira crouches to put the drinks on the ground and grabs one of them, his eyes constantly trained on Goro. He’s about to press the can to the back of the older boy’s head in revenge for getting kicked out of the bed, but hearing a soft noise escaping the other, Akira freezes on the spot.

 

Goro’s...asleep?

 

Akira frowns in disbelief and puts his revenge plot on hold, instead craning his head to take a better look at Akechi’s face.

 

“Darling?” Nothing. He even uses a pet name that is always met with a flustered sputter or a badly concealed blush on Goro’s face, so getting no reaction seems to confirm Akira’s suspicions.

 

Well then.

 

Moving as quietly as he can to the space between the bed and the desk, Akira watches Goro with suspicion for any signs of either faking sleep or waking up. When he can properly see Akechi’s face, relaxed and eyes closed, Akira can do nothing but smile fondly. He crouches near Goro’s head this time, intently observing as wind makes the hair sticking out from his messy ponytail quiver, when everything about Goro is otherwise still.

 

Akira’s knees touch the floor without making a sound as he proceeds to sit on the side of his thigh to get the best angle for viewing the rare sight in front of him. Goro sleeping is something Akira doesn’t get to see often, coming from the fact that he himself is asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow and for Goro it takes _time_ to fall asleep on his own in addition to waking up earlier than Akira does. Naps are a word that doesn’t exist in Akechi Goro’s vocabulary either, and him being asleep during the day in the vast majority of cases means sickness or exhaustion. Sometimes both.

 

Understandably, Akira worries.

 

Swapping the can he forgot he was even holding to his left hand, Akira pushes back the hair that got stuck to Goro’s face, wincing at how warm to the touch the other is. Judging from his normal breathing and slight flush Akira at least knows he’s not overheated. It would definitely do him good to drink some water instead of soda though.

 

Unwilling to disturb Goro just yet, Akira can’t help but marvel at how peaceful he looks, expression relaxed and one hand curled in front of his mouth, Akira wishes his phone wasn’t lost somewhere in the sheets. Goro’s relationship with sleep is shaky at best, making sure he’s completely exhausted before even attempting to fall asleep to minimize his chances of having a nightmare. Akira tries to help as much as he can, with both his libido and ability to sense Goro’s distress even in his sleep. With how difficult it is for Akechi to rest it would be best to let him nap in any other circumstances, but soon the temperature will be high enough for a fan to be ineffective- and for the heat to become an actual concern.

 

But Goro seems to rouse on his own; seemingly unsettled by the chill of Akira’s hand on his face, he scrunches his brows and groans lightly before blearly blinking a couple of times. Taking his hand back Akira laughs lightly at that and moves to sit on the bed.

 

“It felt good, give it back…”

 

“Oh? Wait ‘til you feel my other hand,” says Akira as he lets go of the can in his left hand to put the palm squarely on Goro’s cheek.

 

“Ah! You-” Akechi yelps in surprise before he puts his own hand over it to move it to his forehead. “This is nice…”

 

Goro is practically melting, a sigh of bliss tickling Akira’s wrist.

 

“You alright?”

 

“Headache…” Hearing that, Akira brings the forgotten soda can to lightly press it to Goro’s temple. But the older boy is satisfied with just that and pries the can away from Akira’s hand to cradle it against his face by himself.

 

“You need to drink something,” muses Akira as he moves his hand to caress the top of Goro’s head instead.

 

“Weren’t you supposed to take care of that?” Akechi opens one eye to take a proper look at the object in his hand. He frowns noticing the brand and looks up to meet Akira’s stare with his own.

 

“Yeah, but you need water, not something that will actually dehydrate you further.” When Akira moves to take the soda from his hand Goro only clutches it stronger and cradles it against his chest and out of Akira’s reach.

 

“I want this though. Better than water.” Better meaning sweeter.

 

“Don’t be a child.”

 

“You’re a child for intentionally not bringing the one drink I like, even though there’s an abundance of it in the fridge.” Goro effortlessly pulls off that airy yet accusatory tone, acting all high and mighty as though he wouldn’t do exactly the same in Akira’s place. Akira only thins his lips at that.

 

“Let’s go downstairs,” he tries. Rolling his eyes Goro groans and hides his face in the pillow. Round 2. “The AC is on.” A red eye peeks out. Round 3. “I’ll make you coffee if you eat something and take painkillers.” Akechi propps himself on his elbows, definitely interested in the offer now. We have a winner.

 

“Don’t think you’re off the hook though,” Akira says as he swiftly reaches to pull at the band of Akechi’s boxers and releases it with a resounding snap against Goro’s skin. He rushes to get up before he even hears his boyfriend yelp, intending to have the other chase him downstairs, but he underestimates how quick Goro himself can move, even if hindered by the weather.

 

Deceptively wiry arms encircle his midsection and Goro’s weight stops Akira in midair, forcefully bringing his ass back down on the bed. Both the crates and Akira groan loudly at the impact, the pesky soda can now pressed into his kidney area, making him squirm to escape both it and Akechi’s iron grip.

 

Akira’s done playing nice. Twisting to reach for Goro’s ribs instead of trying to break free, he uses his knowledge of one certain way to get his boyfriend off him _and_ annoy him- tickling. Their eyes meet briefly but Goro realizes Akira’s intentions too late to get away from the invading hands before a featherlight touch assaults his sides, causing his muscles to jump involuntarily.

 

“No!” Is shrieked out by Goro as he scrambles to get away.

 

“ _Now_ you don’t want to play?” Akira makes use of his movements no longer being restricted and _lunges_ for Goro. “Come here, you little-”

 

_“No!”_

 

They tousle and wrestle on the bed for a good couple of minutes, fighting for nothing more than an upper hand in a pointless argument they’ve already forgotten about. Laughter and giggles fill the air; they stop only when Akira captures Goro’s lips just because he has the opportunity to. Akechi isn’t too keen at first but quickly melts into it, deeming it a worthy consolation prize. But when Akira tries to lie him on his back he resists with a nip to the other’s lower lip. With a grunt Akira resorts to hauling them both up for a better angle, and without breaking up rearranges them into a more comfortable position.

 

He leans against the windowsill, having Goro lie in between his legs. Akechi, being too busy counting Akira’s teeth with his tongue, notices the shift too late and loses balance when his hands slide down Akira’s chest from how sweaty they both are. With a surprised gasp he lands face first on Akira’s pectoral to a resounding smack, followed by a stunned silence. It rings in their ears for a brief second before Akira bursts out laughing again, completely taken aback by the uncharacteristic lack of self-awareness on Goro’s part. Akechi doesn’t share his enthusiasm though and anger deepens the flush already present on his face.

 

“Gross! You’re sweating like a p-mmph!” His complaint is interrupted by his lips getting captured yet again. The kiss is a lot more biting this time, Akechi relentlessly fighting to control it by pushing hard against Akira’s chest and mouth.

 

“You aren’t doing much better yourself honey... I’d watch your mouth,” Akira manages to get out when they break away to catch their breath. Still, he doesn’t let Akechi get away by encircling the other with his arms, keeping him firmly glued to his front.

 

“That’s what the shirt is for,” bites out Goro, as he tries and fails to find anything to dry his face on. His nose is adorably scrunched and his attempt go get his hair out of his eyes by shaking his head is just as woefully unsuccessful. He sulks and Akira smile only grows wider.

 

“The shirt you stole from me, you mean?” Chides Akira as he brings Goro closer to tuck the offending strands stubbornly sticking to his face behind his ear, gently playing with the reddening lobe afterwards. He can feel Akechi’s heavy breaths against his chilling skin and involuntarily shivers, resting his cheek on top of his boyfriend’s hair to conceal it. They spend another moment in comfortable silence, letting the gentle breeze coming from the fan do what it’s supposed to do and cool them off, for once.

 

From his comfortable spot atop Goro’s head, Akira notices the soda can lying forgotten in the sheets, not too far away from his thigh. He supposes they could share it before the inevitable bathhouse and laundry trip. Not thinking much about it, he reaches out to grab it and dangle it in front of Goro’s face in a silent question. A nod is his answer.

 

Fiddling with the somehow still cold and moist can, Akira finally manages to open it, only for the spray of angrily sizzling soda to hit him straight in the face.

 

If there were any pedestrians out in the streets in the vicinity of LeBlanc, they would definitely hear Akechi howling in laughter for several long minutes.


End file.
